


drawn to your light.

by AquaWolfGirl



Series: Aqua's One Shots [4]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Jedi!AU, Post-War, Redemption arc?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 05:59:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5994043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AquaWolfGirl/pseuds/AquaWolfGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Redeemed/Jedi!AU Rey and Kylo/Ben. Sheer fluff - I hope you don't mind too terribly! With a few laughs, a kiss or two, and naughty little Jedis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	drawn to your light.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hellobutterscotch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellobutterscotch/gifts).



“You’re not focused.” 

She nearly falls off of the rock she’s perched on, practically tumbling into the misty falls below. She feels a slight tug as she pitches forward slightly, and looks back to see that he’s put his boot on her robes to keep her from falling. As if she’d actually fall. She looks up and glares playfully at him, tugging her robes out from under his foot and standing. He looks a bit more than amused, smirking with his arms crossed over his broad chest. His hair’s pulled up into it’s usual half-up half-down style, and she resists the urge to reach up and tug at the little tail of hair just out of sheer spite. 

“It’s a bit hard to focus when I can hear and feel you walking around me,” she snaps, brushing herself off. The water of the falls has soaked into her robes, making the dirt of the rock stick to the fabric. She gives up after a few moments - a little dirt on her robes won’t hurt her.  
She looks up at him and raises a brow at him, mirroring his position and crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re a very loud stomper, you know that?” 

“I wanted to see how deep your focus was. As you’ve just proved, it wasn’t very deep at all.” His voice is a deep rumble, and she can practically hear the effort it takes for him not to laugh at her.

“And what if I didn’t want to be very focused?” she asks, starting to walk down from the rock. He follows her wordlessly as she grabs her staff and swings it over her shoulder. He bends to pick up the bag she’d brought, grabbing an apple from the bag before pulling the strap across his body. She doesn’t protest - if he wants to carry her bag, she’ll let him. He offers his hand to help her down the slippery rocks. She takes it, gladly. While she can descend on her own, it’s nice to have a bit of assurance that she won’t go tumbling to her death. She’s used to rocks being sandy, not slippery. 

They walk beside each other on the way back to the academy, the path barely wide enough for them both. Her shoulder bumps against his upper arm more than once, but he doesn’t say anything. The heat of him is welcome after being near the falls, the air cool from the water. She leans into him slightly. He doesn’t protest, instead letting her be near him.

She suddenly has a thought, and frowns as she looks up at him. “Did you come looking for me?” she asks. It hadn’t even occurred to her that she might’ve been his reasoning for stomping around the falls.

He nods. “I did. You missed forms with the Padawans.” 

She stops dead in her tracks, eyes going wide in horror. “I didn’t.” 

He turns, raising one dark eyebrow at her. “You did.” 

“I didn’t!” she insists, looking up at the sky. Had it really been that long? She came here just after breakfast, forms were in the early afternoon, she couldn’t possibly have-

“Rey, it’s all right. I led them through them. They wondered where you were, but we were just fine without you.” 

She moves her eyes from the sky back to him, back to where he’s waiting for her. It’s simultaneously comforting and kind of insulting that he was able to do just as well without her. She resumes walking, eyes now on the mossy ground beneath their feet. 

Seeming to sense her emotions, he speaks again. “I mean, it would’ve been a lot better with you - we just did the basics without you, and they missed you-“ 

“Solo,” she scolds, bumping her hip against his thigh. “You’re rambling.” For as focused as he could be, the older Jedi often rambled - especially with her. It’s almost endearing. 

“Right,” he mutters, and she grins a bit more at the ground when she sees that his ears have turned pink.

The new Academy’s in view now, and he steps a bit to the side so that they have some semblance of space between them. She can see a few of the younger Padawans practicing in one of the yards, surrounded by trees and the ruins of the building that had once been. One of them sees her and waves. She waves back, smiling softly. She bumps her hip forcefully against Ben’s to get him to wave as well. He does so a bit reluctantly, one large hand raising and then falling in acknowledgement.

“We shouldn’t distract them,” he murmurs once they start walking again. She shrugs, staff hitting the back of her thighs as she walks.  
“They aren’t meditating,” she explains. “I could feel their focus. We didn’t disturb it for very long.” She looks up at him. “Is there a reason you’re in a such a sour mood today?” Though he’s quiet most of the time, he hasn’t been this moody since his …. well, redemption, really. 

He shakes his head at her question, and already she knows he’s lying. She doesn’t need the Force to tell her. It’s an innate ability, honed after months of training and being by his side. He’s not a horrible liar in front of other people, but he somehow can’t lie to her. “It’s nothing,” he assures her.

“You can tell me, you know,” she says quietly, looking up at him. 

“I’m serious, Rey. It’s nothing.”

“Ben, just tell me.” 

“I can handle it on my own.” 

“Ben.” 

“You don’t believe me.” 

“No,” she answers simply. “I don’t. Now tell me what’s wrong.” 

-

They find a spot in one of the courtyards, abandoned but for a few people walking through. Ben settles them beside a tree. He strips off the upper half of his robes, leaving him in just pants and his boots - his typical meditation attire. 

Rey narrows her eyes at him. “Ben. We’re not meditating right now. You were going to tell me what’s wrong.” 

He just falls into position, closing his eyes. Almost immediately she can feel him close himself off to her. 

She huffs angrily. Jedi and their evasion tactics. 

She strips off her outer robes and settles across from him. She’s never tried meditating here before, though she’s seen Ben do it plenty of times. She always thought it would be too distracting, with the people moving through the space. For Ben, she guesses that it’s an extra challenge. 

She can’t do it. She can’t focus with him so close, and besides, she’s already done her meditating for today. So she moves so that her back is settled against a tree across from him. She grabs her robes and folds them to provide some cushion between her back and the bark. And then she watches him. 

Luke had told her, once, a very long time ago and only after she’d pressed and pressed and pressed him, that Ben was an angry child. He lashed out often, mainly towards himself. She can see the scars from it on his pale skin, thin and thick lines alike. She can see which ones were from the past, and which are more present. They clash with the dark moles on his skin, comets in between a scattering of scars. She can vaguely see the lines of his muscles, tracing his arms and his chest. It’s not the first time she’d seen him shirtless, far from considering the past few years of him teaching her, but it’s the first time she’s really looked at him in another context.

“Stop staring.” His voice surprises her a bit. She’d expected him to be long gone by now, sucked into the Force. 

“No.” It’s a simple, defiant little ‘no’, and it somehow makes him open his eyes. He glares at her, and she glares back. 

“I can’t find my focus with you staring at me like that,” he insists. 

“Well, whose fault is that?” she snarks. 

“Yours, obviously.” 

She wants to laugh, so she does, almost giggling at his stern glare. She shakes her head and crawls towards him, settling in front of him and scooting so that their legs are touching. They’re not quite knee to knee, his legs being significantly longer than hers, but they’re close. “Ben,” she says simply.

“Rey.” 

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

She feels whatever focus he had shatter. Instead he leans forward, sighing softly and breaking position. She can feel the heat of him as he leans towards her, head almost to her shoulder. 

“Snoke,” he breathes. “He’s getting harder and harder to ignore.”

Her breath catches in her throat, and she reaches her hand out to grab at his shoulder, trying to right both him and herself. “Again?” she asks, thumb brushing against the scarred skin.

“It never stopped,” he admits. “I just became better at blocking him. But he’s getting harder and harder to push out.” 

“We need to tell Luke.” 

“I’ve already told Luke.” He sounds annoyed. “He’s told me to focus more, to put more effort into it. He doesn’t know, doesn’t understand that-“

“It tempts you again,” she realizes. “The Dark.”

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, his eyes find a spare thread on her shirt. He reaches down, pale fingers playing with it. She watches him as he twirls the string around his fingers, nearly cutting off blood circulation. 

“You’re stronger,” she says. “I know you are, Ben, you’re stronger than-“

“But I’m not.” It’s a quiet breath of an admission, accompanied by a shake of his head. 

She reaches forward, cupping his cheeks in her hands and forcing her to look up at him. “Hey. C’mere.” 

He looks up at her, reluctantly. 

“You deflected him once,” she explains. “And you can do it again.” 

“I’ve also turned my back on the Light before,” he insists. “And I can do it again.” 

It’s very un-Jedi-like, but her hand slashes against his cheek. The ‘slap’ echoes through the courtyard, and both Ben and onlookers alike are shocked as he raises a hand to his quickly reddening skin. The scar across his cheek doesn’t take on the color, so he’s left with this streak of white beside the pink. He blinks at her in surprise, holding his hand to his cheek. “Rey-“ 

“Don’t you dare,” she hisses in warning. “Don’t you dare say that you could do it again. Because you can’t. I know you can’t. Ben, you train Padawans. You trained me. You wouldn’t be able to do that if you didn’t have some Light in you. Can you imagine turning on everyone again? On killing that Padawan who waved to us in the yard? Can you imagine killing them, Ben?”

He’s silent, and for the first time in a while, she’s scared he might say ‘yes’. It’s been quite a while since he used a name other than ‘Ben’, but it doesn’t mean that the man who had once been ‘Kylo Ren’ is entirely dead. She holds her breath, waiting for his response. 

“… no,” he finally admits. It’s not a lie. She’d know full well if he was. 

“There,” she tells him. “You’re not going to turn again, all right? I won’t let you.” 

Whatever she was expecting, it was not for him to kiss her. She lets out a startled sound as he suddenly launches forward and presses their lips together, the smarting skin of his cheek forgotten. She’s shocked still beneath his touch, mind running through how this is definitely not how she'd expected him to react.

Well, he never was one to adhere to her expectations of him. 

She kisses him back after a moment of hesitation. He tastes like the apple he’d taken from her bag, and metal - no doubt from his water canteen, the metal transferring its taste to his water. They’re not hidden from view, far from. Anyone who wanders through the courtyard could see them. But she can’t bring herself to care as her hand moves up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. It's nice, nicer than any kiss she'd exchanged with a man at the outpost. His lips aren't dry from lack of water, nor does he taste like sand and salt. She can imagine herself doing this again, maybe for hours on end. 

He’s the one who pulls away, much to her surprise. He chuckles against her mouth. “I’ve wanted to do that since Takodana.” 

“… since you attacked and kidnapped me?” she questions, pulling back a bit. Her hand’s still in his hair, tangled in the dark strands. She runs her blunt fingernails over his scalp, smiling at his small shiver. She does it again, watching his reaction. She could get used to this, the way his hair feels through her fingers and the sensation of his large hand on her small waist.

His cheeks and ears turn pink at her question. “Yes.” 

“How romantic,” she teases, the words accompanied by a snort. 

When she catches his eyes again, all humor is gone from his. She stares at him, sensing that he’s about to tell her something. 

“I’m not going to turn,” he mutters, nose brushing against her cheek. “Not again. Your Light is too strong.” 

“My light?” she questions, confused. 

“Don’t tell me you can’t see it,” he says, astonished.

“I don’t think I can.” 

“You’re like a sun,” he explains. “Pure Light. And I’m drawn to it.” 

Should she thank him? Agree with him? She doesn’t know, so instead she leans forward and kisses the cheek she slapped. “Sorry for slapping you.” 

She can feel his soft laughter against her lips, feel the snort of amusement that comes from him. “It’s all right. I deserve far worse.”  
She doesn’t disagree with him this time. To some, he might deserve death. To others, he might deserve the worst torture imaginable, in accordance to what he’d done. She can’t argue with them, not after all that he’d done had been brought to light. But to her, he deserves another chance. 

“Are you going to meditate?” she asks, lips still pressed to his cheek. 

“Not with you this close to me,” he admits. “I can’t focus for Sith with your lips near me.” 

It’s her turn to laugh. “Do you want me to go?” 

“Never.” He answers her a bit too quickly, and she laughs again, running her fingers through his hair. 

“… is he calling to you now?” she asks, after a moment of comfortable silence.

“Yes,” he admits. “But it’s easier to ignore him when you’re here.” 

“Then I won’t leave,” she decides. She pulls back and settles across from him. It won't be too hard, not when they train and teach together almost every waking moment. 

"Rey-" he warns.

"I'm not going anywhere," she insists as she stands. "If I'm helping to keep him away for you, then I won't leave your side." She waves her hand, gesturing him up. "C'mon, I want to spar."

He stares at her openly, before snorting and getting to his feet. "You're one of the most stubborn people I have ever met," he tells her once he's standing. "And that includes my parents." 

She pulls her staff from its hilt, grinning at him as she finds his saber still attached to his outer robes, the pile of fabric more near her than him. She tosses the saber to him, the hilt flying into his hand despite her horrible throw. They probably shouldn't do this here, with so many people watching and so many trees nearby, but she's too excited to wait. "C'mon, Solo. Give me your best." 

He's staring at her with open awe, and she's suddenly thrown back to StarKiller base, of his face when Luke's saber had gone to her hand instead of his. She hesitates but for a moment, igniting her saber and lunging forward. He barely has time to throw his up, but manages to block her nonetheless with a surprised snort. 

"Are we playing clean or dirty, little scavenger?" he demands, pushing back against her. 

She just grins. "When have you ever known me to play clean?"

"Fair enough." He's on her in seconds, attacking her with perfect form. She defends herself easily, pushing back at him and giving him as good as he gives her. They accumulate a bit of an onlooking, a class of Padawans moving through the courtyard and stopping to admire the fight. So if they put a few more of the show-y moves in, who's to stop them? She can see the colors of their sabers, his green and her yellow, flickering on the sweat on his skin, and wonders if he can see the same on hers. 

They don't fight clean - she slides between his legs once, coming around the other side and ready to attack from behind. It's by sheer dumb luck and a hint from her mind to his that has him spinning around and blocking her from underneath. So they're not the best example for the onlooking Padawans to follow, but it's a good show, at least. 

Until Ben manages to slice one of the tree limbs above them. 

She shrieks as he grabs her waist and yanks her away from the falling wood, his hand turning her saber off so he doesn't get stabbed as he pulls her close to his chest. She laughs out loud as the limb falls to where she had been before with a deafening crash and plenty of fallen leaves. They stare at it for a moment, his saber still ignited beside him. 

"Rey. Ben." 

Luke's standing at the front of the crowd. Rey opens her mouth to explain when she feels a tug on her waist, and the sound of Ben's lightsaber deactivating. 

"Run." 

"What?" 

"Run!" She's being tugged sideways, yanked around the fallen tree. He bends and grabs their robes, throwing hers at her as he pulls her through the courtyard, escaping punishment like a child. She laughs as she's tugged with him, both of them running through the hallways of the Academy. He yanks her around corners, finally ducking into an alcove as she tries to catch her breath. Running and laughing at the same time isn't exactly a good idea for her lungs, and she wheezes in between chuckles. 

"Did we… seriously… just run from … Luke?" she pants, her face close to his chest as they press together between two pillars. 

"Yes. Yes, we did." 

She laughs again, the sound echoing through the empty hallways. She can feel the awe coming from him, tied in with affection and amusement, and idly wonders if he can feel the same coming from her. 

There's more Light in him than he knows, she thinks to herself as she presses against him, feeling his chest heaving and the chuckles coming from it. Maybe not as much as her, but more than he thinks there is.


End file.
